Yesterday, Wes and I took a trip to Target for a few items. While there, he discovered some of Target's nicer clothes and came home with a pair of pants and some new Levi's jeans. These were welcome additions to his closet since he's lost a lot of weight in the last two months, and many of his pants are now too big.
This led to a cleaning-out of his closet to rid the too big, worn out, and generally ugly clothes hiding in there -- some of which are remnants from high school (yes, I know), and some of which were hand-me-downs from older male relatives who shall remain nameless. As we went through some of the worst offenders, Wes made a case for certain pieces. Speaking about a pair of particulary ratty jeans, he said, "They know their place." Upon probing this comment, Wes explained that he would never try to wear these jeans out of the house or in company. They were for sitting by a campfire or building things. This, unlike a rather hideous short-sleeved plaid shirt than inevitably reared its head (and enormous sleeves) each summer. Shaking his head in resignation, he said simply, "It didn't know its place."
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